


Maybe I Just Want To Spend Time With My Brother

by viixiie



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AU where Vanya missed the moon, And a Hug, Five had to do weird shit in the apocalypse, Five needs new clothes, Implied vague feelings between Five and Vanya, Sorry Not Sorry, Super brotherly bonding, and everyone kinda hates Spaceboy, crying hours, send Luther to the sun 2k19
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-05 23:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19050478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viixiie/pseuds/viixiie
Summary: Crisis averted- for now, again. Third time's the charm, right?But now, it's Four and Five. Specifically, Klaus and Five, where Klaus feels like it's high time for some Lovely Brotherly Bonding and Five would still, sooner chew off his own foot.But somehow the Bonding commences, and for as much as Five may grumble, he might have missed his dumb brother.A collection of various scenarios in which Klaus bugs Five into hanging out with him, that probably end in fluffy angsty brothers being emotional little shits.





	1. Get In, Loser, We're Going Shopping

      Five wasn't exactly the most fashionable of his siblings. No one would argue that by a mile.   
  He was certainly up there for smarts, if not entirely THE smartest of them all, save for maybe Ben- not that that counted toward much at this point. But the boy/ man/ time traveller extraordinaire seemed to just.. stockpile endless matching sets of the same classic Umbrella Academy uniform, or else just washed his outfit religiously. No one had really made much mention of it, but it was really starting to bug the most fashion-centric of the siblings. Something had to be done.

  So, not being the absolute best at spending intimate time with her siblings aside from Luther- and with that being shaky at the moment, obviously- Allison approached Friendly and Social himself, and all but pleaded with him on her knees to take the poor child out for _something, anything,_ that wasn't a uniform. The pleading was significantly lessened only to avoid her having to stare directly at a pair of her favorite leggings, and the.. well, some would call it  _favors_ they did him.  
  Klaus had, as expected, been more than eager to do so, and practically scampered through the manor to find the old man. Allison didn't have the heart to tell him Five had left early to "get some air", or whatever that actually meant. Klaus's pout upon descending the stairs momentarily after, however, broke her down.  
  "He headed out a while ago," she informed him with a mixture of apology and bemusement in her smile. "He said he wanted some air. If I knew what that meant for a 14 year old, or a 60 year old, I'd happily elaborate, but alas-"  
  "The stunted bastard probably took off for coffee. Anyways, I found one of daddy dearest's old credit cards buried away in his study, and it worked to buy this super  _ridicilous_ beanbag chair I found online, so we might be home late. Don't wait up!" He was lingering by the door by now, blowing kisses at her, and it was only moments after the door clicked shut that she heard the clang of the front gate and then the blaring of unsettling nursery tunes because  _of course_ , Klaus had rewarded himself for sobering up and as such, being able to drive, by going back for that goddamn ice cream truck.   
  Allison left a silent prayer of luck for Five.

 

-

     Klaus all but parades himself into Griddy's, where, as he expected, Five is hunched over a mug of jet black coffee- could coffee even BE that black??- and reading a newspaper. The sight would give anyone a strong urge to double-take, maybe hold back a snort of laughter. He's just so  _tiny_ , it's precious.   
  The lanky medium meets eyes with a waiter, and, though it's far earlier than his usual diner runs for caffeine and sugar that he's gotten so attached to since sobering up, the younger guy gives a curt nod and heads to the back to prepare his usual order. Klaus is, as such, all smiles when he slides ungracefully into the booth opposite Five. The expression goes nowhere as his beloved brother clocks him, and immediately expresses a look that can only be described as someone seeing their migraine personified before them.  
  "What brings my sweet, dear, wonderful little Five to a humble little place like this at such a preposterous hour?" Klaus inquires, draping one arm across the back of the seat and hitching his ankle up onto his thigh. Klaus was no small man by any means other than his waist, which he entirely overcompensated for by just.. sprawling. Everywhere.  
  "It's past noon," was Five's simple, dignified response, his eyes refocusing to the paper. "Aren't you basically nocturnal? What are you even doing here?"  
  Klaus's eyes twinkle with mischief, and then gratitude, as the waiter slips up to their table with a small pile of donuts on a plate and a cup overflowing with whipped cream, hiding an ungodly number of shots and way too much caramel. "Our favorite sibling has issued me a request, a  _mission,_ if thy will, since we all just live for those." He takes almost half a donut in one bite and leans forward, elbows on the table, smirking down at his brother as he works the bread in his mouth.  
  It's a skill Five is both utterly disgusted by, and entirely grateful for. It's one of the few times the man ever shuts the hell up.  
  To be fair, seeing him smiling and talkative  _just to be_ smiley and talkative is not an unwelcome shift from the boundless, crazed energy he had on drugs. Five was quite proud of him; his eyes were brighter, his skin more tanned, his figure more toned and a little more filled out, though very lithe regardless. Klaus looked good, for the first time... Well, he'd say since childhood, but the near-constant horror in his eyes and the nightmare-induced screaming that kept everyone awake, regardless of it never once being mentioned to him by any of his siblings, proved otherwise. The memories are sobering, and Five feels himself soften just a bit toward his brother's presence. Sometimes he forgets just what he's fought, too.  
  "Vanya has a mission for us?" His voice is unbelieving, and he sets his mouth firmly as Klaus looks first shocked, then intrigued, then mischievious again. "Allison," he corrects slowly, "but I'll remember you said that."  
  "I'd prefer you didn't," Five mumbles, knowing full well it's useless.   
  "Lovely Allison has requested I take you out for some real clothes. AND, before you tell me some bullshit about those being real clothes, know that I don't give a fuck." He pulls the credit card from.. Actually, Five doesn't want to know where, because those leggings don't have pockets, and neither does the perfectly sheer cropped shirt he's wearing. The man has more coverage from his dog tags. "I swiped this, and it's still active, so we can even hunt through those fancy rich bozo stores and get the good shit." He eyes Five carefully. He knows he's won.   
  This annoys Five. He absolutely IS wearing real clothes. And he absolutely DOES want to blow as much of dad's money as recklessly as possible on posh new suits, because he is a Dignified Elder.   
  A Dignified Elder trapped in the body of a 14 year old, who can and will get away with buying expensive as fuck suits, all the while basking in the confused stares of any and every other patron and employee in every damn store. Stares he's chosen to utterly revel in, honestly. And Klaus has sensed his shift in perspective, is watching the wheels turn in his head, and that blinding smirk is getting ever so wide. Five hates him.   
  "Fine. But if I see a  _single_ feahter, or sequin, or a thread of fucking  _velvet_ _,_ I am kicking your entire tiny ass, just so you can feel the pain that you are in mine every goddamn day."   
  Klaus reacts as though Five just professed undying brotherly love to him- in part, because in Five's own endearing way, he did, and in part because it's all the more infuriating. He makes unsettlingly quick work of his order, which is relatively sickening to anyone watching him, and finds his waiter to pay, not bothering with patience. He tips generously, and in cash, handed directly to the poor boy with a hushed "fuck capitalism" and a wink, before prancing off after Five like he was a doting toddler. 

  One look between Klaus and the ice cream truck has an impossibly more disappointed look on Five's face than Klaus can ever remember seeing before. "Absolutely not," Five admonishes, before remembering that his options are that or an old plumbing company van. He sighs, impressively hard for a child, and sets his face in resignation, turning sharply on his heel in the direction of Klaus's truck.   
  "Fine," he practically snarls. "But I'm driving."

  Klaus had never really been sober enough to pay attention to Five's driving, but holy shit. If Klaus had ever wondered about Five really becoming an old man after disappearing, the perfect grip on the wheel and constant need to be within half a mile an hour of the speed limit proved it without a doubt. Klaus eventually unbuckled, much to the strongly worded protest of his brother, and took up residence next to the old ice chests- "so I can close my eyes and pretend you can actually fucking drive."  
  "I will turn this stupid van around right the hell now."  
  "No you won't because for one, you'd be sitting here for everyone to see you driving it for no reason, and for another, I'd just jump out and get run over, and then how would you feel?"   
  He'd feel like shit, even if it was completely intended. He grumbles indistinguishable swears, Klaus's returned "language, young man!" earning him a swift middle finger, and very slowly so as to go unnoticed, presses on the gas until they're 5 miles above the limit.

-

     The taller sibling practically flounces out of the vehicle in the mall parking lot, a long scarf splayed across his shoulders against the slight chill. It's truly a spectacle watching the two arrive; a small, scowling schoolboy, with more indignation on his face than anyone would think possible for someone barely past middle school, and an exceedingly flambouyant young man in intimately fitting leggings and a fully revealing shirt, wearing smudged eyeliner and topped off with large, eyecatching rings on his tattooed, black-nailed hands, and military tags. His messy hair and leather Converse could be either entirely on-brand, or uncomfortably clashing. There was no right answer.  
  He's genuinely excited. For all the shit he gave Five, as often as he avoided socializing unless it had to do with inebriation in the past, and as much as he stayed relatively solitary now just out of habit and residual laziness, he really wanted to turn a new leaf over. He wanted to be sociable, loveable, endearing, for reasons other than being the comic relief junkie. He wanted to break his shell, finally, firmly, and not let it consume him again. His powers could be controlled and tamed, with a little more effort and a lot less escapism, and he had his family- all the equally traumatized and stunted 7 of them- to help him.  
  The one most distant and disagreeable, he figured, would prove a decent start, at least. Pave the rough road for the easier ones to come. Vanya wanted nothing more than inclusion, and she was a gentle soul, really. He honestly looked forward to helping her; after all, he, too, had a power he struggled to understand and control, potential he had yet to unlock, and a long history of distancing himself from the family and drowning his pain in drugs. Once he found a way to approach her, and prove he was genuine, he was sure they'd be able to be close. Allison was pretty easy-going, and he had no worries about her, but didn't necessarily consider her in need of his full attention or support, in the end. She was probably the best off of any of them. Straightforward, easy power, big name fame.. Really, her biggest problem was the massive wall between her and Luther right now, and Klaus couldn't, wouldn't blame her. Luther showed disgusting true colors in their sister's most desperate moment and, in truth, was probably the real cause of the apocalypse to begin with. Klaus wasn't sure he'd make much effort to rekindle a friendship with their 'leader' any time soon. Besides that, Ben was.. well, Ben was there whether either of them wanted him to be, and Klaus couldn't ever complain about that. That only left Diego. Diego didn't worry Klaus in the slightest. They'd always been relatively close, and especially recently. There was a softness to him that, despite his looks and his reputation, he really didn't try to hide much, or if he did, he did a pisspoor job of it. It inspired Klaus greatly, just like a lot of Diego did. There wasn't really a need to fix their relationship or prove anything to him; Diego had enough of a history himself to withhold judgement, and Klaus knew they would always be secure.

  For now, it was Five's day, the tough nut to crack. Five was an enigma. He showed his advanced age in his habits, his experience and wisdom in his words, but with so much time spent alone, even as an assassin, he still held a lot of his youthful traits, and Klaus admired that as well. It made Five harder to relate to, tough to work out and pick apart. He wasn't afraid of being alone, which had surprised Klaus at first, but he soon realized it was quite the opposite.  
  Five was afraid to be close, to let his guard down. He was afraid to love, especially anything that might love him back, in any means that weren't his own mind.   
  Because getting close, and comfortable, meant he, and everyone left behind, had to suffer all that loss over again if he got equations wrong again, and it would all be his fault again.   
  Guilt was a hard emotion for Number Four, because it was one constantly muddied by both drugs and fiery indignation for Reginald. But the sight, or the sense, of it, was overpowering. There was a lot of it in the afterlife, and it surrounded a spirit, a vision, even just a voice like an ashen, choking aura. The feeling was a knife in his chest, even when it wasn't his own, and for a long time he vowed to carry no regrets, never let that feeling tail him. But guilt was natural, and there was so, so much of it in Five. So much he knew his brother would never admit to, no matter what. He'd feel that knife on him, if he managed to outlive him. He braced for it every day. He'd never be ready. 

  "-so I think we'll have the best luck in.. Klaus, have you heard a single thing I've said??" Five is squinting like a disdainful grandfather, and to be jarred from such a reverie with an expression like that makes Four snort, and then immediately backpedal to save his ass from Five's tiny, Chihuahua wrath.   
  That imagery, however, makes it so much worse.   
  "No, no, I'm sorry, I was.. Please repeat, I'm sorry, just.. tuning out.." He motions around his head and makes a strangled sort of sound, crossing his eyes for effect. The theatrical man was never blase in his reenactments of spiritual nagging, though he did feel a bit bad about bottling his actual thoughts for Five, especially when they had literally been about wanting to become closer with their siblings. Thankfully, though Five is irate, it's really no more than his resting expression, and Klaus determines that he's taken the bait and let him off.   
  "Well, Ghostboy, I was trying to outline a plan for the afternoon, but seeing as how I don't much care to repeat myself after being so rudely interrupted, I guess we can just.. wing it." There's almost a note of humor in his voice as Klaus pulls open the door for him, and it has the taller man just short of beaming. He always did love Five's sass.  
  "They're so happy you acknowledged them!"  
  "I'm about to take off my shoe and wack them. And you. Both. Repeatedly."  
  Ah, good old Five.

  The first few shop choices led them upstairs, where Klaus urged Five inside some big name place he knew was important but couldn't be bothered with, while he grabbed himself one of those fancy ice cream cones with the fruity stripes on all the swirls, because he fucking loved them and could never pass them up. When he entered, Five already had two shirts slung over his arm, and was perusing pants, unsuccessfully waving away a well-meaning young lady who seemed quite concerned about his lack of parental figure.  
  "He's off getting- ah, see, getting an ice cream cone, like I said." Five barely regards Klaus's approach, and the medium shoots a dazzling smile at the rather shocked associate. "Sorry for the snaps, love, he's really a fifty-eight year old man trapped in a kid's body. I'm his twin brother, Klaus." A tattooed hand extends for a shake, which is very apprehensively returned. He can see the questions in her mind, before she gives the expected resolute blink. They're fucking with her entirely. Nothing to worry about. Her servicing grin returns, though the patience in it is slightly ebbing.   
  "Right then.. so, your- erm-  _brother-_ " her pause is full of "I don't get paid enough for this." Klaus almost feels sorry for her. Almost.  
  "He's picked out a couple of shirts here, and he's found the pants.." It's clear she is simply at a loss for how to approach the two anymore, and her eyes are almost pleading. Klaus blinks the torment from his gaze and shifts to a warm smile instead, and it's like her shoulders visible relax. "We'll just wander through until we feel satisfied, don't you worry about us, miss," he assures her. His voice drips with charm, and again she shifts demeanor, this time backtracking to an almost shy look. Definitely relieved.   
  "Don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't teleport without paying."  
  His casual wink is less than reassuring, and he knows it.

-

     Shopping, outside of the tomfoolery Klaus continuously lays on the sales associates, is fairly standard procedure. Klaus even manages to get Five to branch into some manner of casual clothes, even if they're the kind you'd see on some silver fox of a man in a beachfront resort ad on a magazine. Five looks like an overdressed freshman on picture day, but to be fair, there's not much of a way to avoid that, really. Klaus passes time, while helping Five browse for his size and favorite colors, with more bantering with sales associates- which he expected would irk Five until he begins to notice the slightest upward curl in the corners of his lips at Klaus's bluntly honest, but entirely unbelievable recounts of their various misadventures. By the fourth store, Five even adds his own commentary, a quick "remember that time we went to the zoo as kids and Ben had tentacle wars with the octopus? Man. Life was great before the apocalypse."   
  The funniest part of it was that none of the kids had ever even considered trying to visit a place so centered in free exploration and mundane, trivial knowledge. It was the exact sort of place Reginald despised, and really, such disdain- or at least, expectation of it, drilled into their very bones- had followed them into adulthood. Zoos, aquariums, roller rinks.. regular childhood activites were banned to the core. And after trying to go bowling had gotten them almost gunned down...  
  Thinking about it too long was frankly just depressing.  
  "We really should go to a zoo some day," Five commented absently, making Klaus blink. He has a coffee again, and is people watching at Klaus's side on a bench outside the mall after sharing a fairly quiet lunch. "I really feel like all of us are such depressing assholes because none of us have seen a tiger directly behind plate glass before." Five fixes Klaus with a shit eating grin, and then both of them share a laugh for a moment, Klaus feeling a warm giddiness blossom inside him.  
  "I know what you brought me out here for, really," Five adds when the laughing ebbs. "You wanna get back into the family, to try and feel normal for once. Make everything feel okay."  
  For once, Five has all the words, and Klaus blanches a bit. His brother is perfectly on the nose. "Well, Allison really did ask me to-"  
  "Yeah, no shit. I can see the way she looks at me. Not sure why she asked  _you,_ given the..." He motions over Klaus's ensemble, and the younger man clutches his chest in mock hurt but makes no actual rebuttal. "But, I guess, between Ape Man who only cares about being sent to the moon, Vanya, who dresses kinda like a depressed lesbian most of the time- I mean, no offense to lesbians and the like," another gesture at Klaus, "but y'know; that's just Ben, who's obviously out; Diego, who would just throw me in black and leather like I'm a stunt double for the new 50 Shades movie; or Allison herself, and I don't think she knows how to carry a conversation with me for more than five minutes, let alone a whole day."   
  "Sorry to be the last resort, beloved little brother." Klaus's voice carries hurt, but his eyes glimmer.  
  "I'm almost 30 years older than you."  
  "Yeah, but you're just so..." Klaus closes one eye, squints, and motions crushing Five between his fingers until his brother slaps his hands away, rolling his eyes despite his faint smile.  
  "Really, it's been.. nice. I was beginning to think I was gonna come out of this only really feeling like friends with Vanya." He pauses ever so slightly before saying 'friends', and Klaus immediately notes both that and the word choice. He waits to mention it, though. "I'm proud of you, by the way."  
  Thank god he waited. The phrase is a punch in the gut, swift and unexpected, and Klaus can't even register it before the backs of his eyes are pricking and hot. He doesn't offer a reply, but Five doesn't mind.  
  "I didn't know if you could get clean, frankly. I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you're.. you. And that's a good thing. I can't blame you for drowning it, and all the shit from dad. I can only imagine what a power like yours came with." He's about to continue, but Klaus, though his voice is shaky, interjects very quickly. "The mausoleum."  
  "The what?"  
  "The mausoleum. I.. got locked in there, in the dark, to get... accustomed to them. For hours. If I stayed in there and faced them, I'd learn they weren't scary. But they were so loud, so  _fucking loud,_ and in so much _pain,_ and I just-" He doesn't realize his hands are trembling until Five's are on them, young eyes staring into his with old, hardened wisdom and so much concern it almost breaks the poor medium. "It's okay," Five promises, in the softest voice Klaus has ever heard. "Look at you, look where we are. You're clean. And that bastard is dead. You'll never be back there again." It's not empty comfort; there's fire and conviction in the soft words, and it's almost intimidating, albeit refreshing and admirable. Klaus is reminded, again, of just how inspiring and strong Five is, and has been, not just on his own but for the entire family, through all the years on his own and in finally getting back.   
  Klaus takes a few stuttering breaths, squeezing his left hand into a fist as if to channel the "goodbye" on his palm into the spirits he harbors that threaten to push his barriers. Five waits, patiently and attentively, for him to settle down, his usual gruff demeanor replaced completely by calm understanding.  
  "You've r-really... gotten good with that." Klaus is mostly stable, even if he stammers a bit. Five nods, the ghost of a fond smile on his lips. "Yeah, well. Spent a lot of time with Vanya recently." He seems to hesitate, then he sighs. "She gets it, y'know? I feel like us three.. we really got the shit end of it. Granted, mine was my own dumbass fault, but it doesn't make it any less shitty." He chuckles, a little cold again, but he doesn't stop. "We really did her wrong. All of us did. All she wanted was family, Klaus. Why didn't we try harder for her?"  
  Klaus isn't ready for the pain in Five's eyes. "She wanted family," he starts, slowly. "But you call her a-"  
  "A friend. I know what I said." A sigh, heavy and a little shaky. "Delores wasn't real. The love wasn't real, not the way it should have been. Don't get me wrong, man, I loved her, and I felt her love, because I was stranded in the apocalypse. Christ, did everyone really think I just carried around a mannequin thinking she was flesh and blood?? Don't answer that." Klaus wasn't going to. "I put her back in the store when we came back, told a nice lady to give her some pretty sequins. She means a lot to me. But I've got an entire life to go through now. And I can't like that. And, Vanya.."   
  Klaus regards Five with a bit of new perspective. Thinking it over, it kind of makes sense. Both of them had been shoved away from the family, one way or another, for struggling with their powers. Just like Klaus had. Suddenly, both his appreciation and his ache for Vanya grow significantly, and a part of his heart just... hurts. He expected to get angry, and feel guilty and defensive, when it came time to reach out to his sister. He'd never expected such a rush of it so soon, and with so much familiarity. And certainly not pouring through Five's admissions to camaradarie with her. "So you and Vanya are-"  
  "No. Not.. not like that. We've talked about it, sure. It's just not really.. our thing. But we have an understanding. One I don't think I could see myself holding with any of our family, save for maybe you." Barely a half smile shot towards Klaus, but he'll take it. "Ah, so nothing's happened between you guys, it's just a better bond."  
  An awkward sigh. "Well, no, that's still wrong. But nothing's gone far, it got a little too weird. I mean, in multiple regards. Kind of a, "remind me I'm not alone" sort of event. Depressing as shit." He coughed out a weak laugh, and Klaus feels himself soften. Five's been dealt  _so much bullshit,_ and Klaus just wants to pull him close and shield him from life forever, but Five hates to be touched unless he's drunk off his ass and needs to be carried, and Klaus isn't about to ruin this moment they've just had by pushing his brother even further away.   
  Maybe one day, when Luther is away to brood over his lunar uselessness and Allison and Vanya have taken down their wall, the five of them can just let everything out in the open, cry on each other's shoulders, feel the weight and pain of the Umbrella Academy stream off their shoulders like blood from a war wound in a freezing shower- maybe not surrounded by a platoon of other reeking, bloody men, half-starved and desperate for normalcy and peace- but the analogy was still strong, Klaus assures himself. It's funny, he thinks. Ben's gone, Luther is well on a path to be shamed to exile, God willing.. and just like always, "five" is the true number of strength for the Hargreeves kids. No more dad, and no more Pogo or Grace, either. Just five kids coming back from hell and the apocalypse and trying to learn to love each other like real family, and then to become friends.  
  Klaus wants nothing more than to hug his brother, hold on and never let go. But he won't. Not until the day that he's dying, or if Five ever, miraculously, asks him to.  
  Instead, he smiles, warm and loving and appreciative and just a little sad, and pats Five's shoulder, standing and stretching. "Come on," he urges, holding his hand out even though Five can most definitely stand on his own perfectly fine.  
  And even though Five can most definitely stand on his own perfectly fine, he takes his brother's hand, and for just a second longer than needed, neither of them let go.   
  They head toward the big, dumb, bullet-hole-filled ice cream truck, tucked in a far corner of the parking lot, weights off both of their shoulders, and a companionable closeness to their shoulders that wasn't there when they first went into the mall- Klaus in his stolen leggings, leather shoes, and ridiculous chiffon top, and Five in brand new dark wash jeans, a nicely pressed white button up with the sleeves cuffed below his elbows, and a soft knit sweater in a homely, flattering, yet very particular army green.  
  "Hey, little brother," Klaus starts, this time without the mischief in his tone it usually carried. "... Did I ever mention Dave?"


	2. Old Habits Die Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five hasn't been in the Commission for a hot minute. He's been out of the apocalypse even longer. Yet, there are some habits that just...  
> Take longer than others to kill.  
> Like spiders.

     Klaus is, admittedly, quite comfy with "reversed couching". Which is a phrase coined by him, thank you very much, that tends to raise a lot of eyebrows. He hasn't yet discerned whether most of those come before people know what it means, or after, and frankly, he's not at all concerned.   
  To clarify, he is currently watching Parks and Rec, upside down, with his head and shoulders on a pillow on the floor while his ass remains on the couch, ankles crossed on the backrest.   
  Five had almost turned to not only leave the room, but abandon any and all hope for the man, but Klaus saw him too soon and cried out his name, aiming grabby hands in his direction that accidentally caught his dogtags and flung them at his own mouth, and really, who can say no to an idiot like that?  
  Most people, really, but being 58-14 and an ex assassin/apocalypse survivor isn't "most people", so Five acquiesed.  
  Now, he's reminiscing on the joys of NOT having to deal with utterly horrid character tropes in mainstream media, while listening to Klaus hum loudly and off key along to the theme tune for the fourth time since he sat down.  
  "Five." Ignored.  
  "Five." Ignored, times two combo.  
  "Heyyyyyy, Five." Nope.  
  "Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive." Even letting his tone and volume waiver obnoxiously was useless. Klaus flung his arms over his head, sprawling them across the floor with a theatrical sigh. He then opts for a jab in the knee with every repetition of Five's name.  
  "Five. Five. Five. Fiiiiiiiive." Jab. Jab. Jab. Jabjabjabjabjab.   
  The amount of core muscle it takes to swing one's upper body off the floor from a couch, even a somewhat low-set one, is impressive to say the least- or it would be, if it wasn't your brother, bony and obnoxious as if he were still 15, swinging directly into your lap with the force of a needy toddler.  
  It was like everyone forgot Five had had a LOT of physical conditioning, and Klaus, through strong, was fucking tiny.  
  Klaus is shoved with vigor into a heap on the floor, and rolls to a stop on his back, staring up at Five with hurt and betrayal smeared across his face like bad makeup.  
  Which is also smeared across his face, because he's been too lazy to fix it for the last three days, and he'll be damned if he's going to give in now.   
  "I'll inform you that I am busied with this utterly  _riveting_ material you've selected for us to enjoy. What can you possibly want that could ever be more important than this truly prime piece of art on our screen?" His voice is almost seething, but it's clearly aimed at the show. As usual, Klaus has nothing but admiration for the sheer patience Five had for just sitting through utter bullshit, now that there was no apocalypse and not a lot of mission work, per everyone's agreement (save for Luther, but Luther was a little bitch and no one listened to him anymore anyway.)  
  "Okay, first of all, the sincerity in your voice is truly moving, brother dearest, really. Secondly, you realize this is a wooden floor? Christ on a cracker, Five, show some love to your favorite brother."   
  Five looks highly concerned for a moment, glancing around rapidly. "Shit, did Ben fall, too? Sorry, Ben!!" He flops heavily back against the cushions, eyes unimpressed but the faintest curve of a smirk on his lips.   
  "Woah woah woah,  _Ben's_ your favorite? -No offense Ben, but- what does that make me??"  
  "A portal to the superior sibling."  
  "You can't even talk to him!"  
  "Yes,  _exactly,_ dear brother. You're almost less stupid than Diego! Ben leaves me the entire fuck alone. He's my favorite. Easy math, even for your little ghost boy brain!" Even Ben is visibly stifling a laugh, and Klaus feels entirely attacked in his own home right now, as Five raises a hand blindly and Ben actually bounds over to high-five him. Klaus would be offended, if the thought of bringing his tiny brother to a rave to make him an actual  _high Five_ wasn't so fucking hilarious.  
  Klaus is getting that distracted and unfocused look again, and while it's clear he's just on a train of thought, the familiarity of it makes Five uneasy, as if timelines were somehow shifting. He knows full well Klaus just kind of makes that face sometimes. He's unsure if his brother has noticed him speak up or change subjects every time it happens. He doesn't think so.   
  "What did you want, anyway, you insufferable ouija board with legs?" Five has barely finished the query when Klaus is shrieking, flying off the floor like a cat, and perching on the very back of the couch entirely, which.. definitely shouldn't be possible for someone of his size; even Five risked breaking the frame if he tried to launch onto it like that. He quirks a brow at his brother, not quite concerned enough with his apparent weightlessness, but still tilts his head in confusion at the outburst before following frightened leaf-colored eyes to the object of the Séance's terror- a fat, skittering spider.  
  Five recognizes it quickly as completely nonthreatening, but arachnophobia is commonplace and valid. He has to remember often that not everyone else had had to survive the apocalypse. "You're going to want me to catch it, aren't you?" he sighs, not quite sounding irritated as his mostly-beaten-to-submission soft side offers mild sympathy.   
  "Y-you can get Vanya..." Ah, yes. Vanya. The only one in this damn house, besides Five, who would actually go take a scary bug outside. Allison didn't want anything to do with them, Luther just killed them, which pissed everyone off, and Diego was just as scared as Klaus, though he contained himself much better.  
  Five was in no mood to hear Klaus's whimpering while he looked for their sister, so he sighed and hopped off the couch. Klaus whimpered anyway, because the impact of feet on wood made the spider flinch, but Five simply scooped up the offending creature and strode to the door. 

  He had swallowed one final leg before he stopped, furrowed his brows, and then closed his eyes in a resigned sigh. "I just. Fucking ate it, didn't I." It's a statement, not a question, and he doesn't bother turning to catch Klaus's mildly disgusted, amused, heavily questioning stare. 

-

     "So you ate a shitton of bugs in the literal  _apocalypse,_ and somehow just.. still.. do that??" Klaus is still incredulous. It's been nearly ten minutes.   
  "Nikolaus Katharina Hargreeves,  _yes, once again,_ it happens without thinking sometimes. Usually I don't think about it. Because, lest we forget, it was the  _apocalypse,_ and they were  _bugs,_ and you'd want it to be as minimally thought-about too. And, lest we forget part two, I watched you eat a half of a donut out of a literal  _dumpster._ "   
  This, finally, closes Klaus's slackjawed mouth in defeat. Partially because he can't win, and partially because even he had forgotten the full name he'd made for himself as a kid, and hearing it is both a wave of strange nostalgia and something of a swift kick in the ass. Mostly because, while Grace never used it, Five _did,_ and it still wrung the man into submission.   
  Five knows this, he can see it on Klaus's face, and he relaxes his shoulders, even offering a faint chuckle to remind the more sensitive sibling that he's still playing around. It's weird to him how easy it's become to offer those little bits of comfort, when his norm had always been so blunt and heavily spoken. Though, his norm had also been assassin for a good while, and sole survivor even longer, and those kind of things probably make one hold the little blessings in their old life a little closer. These brief reveries had struck him a lot more recently, and while at first they felt almost invasive, he's come to cherish the way he can pick up the different glimmers of emotions in Klaus's eyes, or how genuine it feels to close his eyes and smile or even sway along to Vanya's practicing, and the way he swells a bit when he opens eyes to see her with the biggest smile she can muster at him every time.   
  Because he gets it now. He understands how it feels to be alone, and feel completely lost. He understands the feeling of blatant refusal to be taken seriously. The ache of empathy, even low, still gets to him sometimes when he thinks about how painfully similar they are, and especially how dismissive he was of them for so long.   
  Except Luther, but he doesn't pity the bastard. Really never has, and doesn't plan to start now. Sorry, Mooney McApeface. 

  The afternoon was spent in easy conversation, Five deciding to stay in the living room and finally explain some of his experiences in the apocalypse and the Commission with his brother, who frankly, partially due to his newfound sobriety making him almost genuinely wholesome and enjoyable to be around, and partially because his other option was literally dead- granted, Klaus did translate a lot of conversation between the two, and it eventually felt like Ben was in the room with them, to more than just the Séance; though, conjuring him physically again wasn't successful yet, thought he gave valiant effort- seemed to be shifting into favorite brother territory. Not that Five would ever say so, of course, except maybe if Klaus started relapsing or something equally tragic. But Five had meant what he'd said two days ago outside the mall; he was proud of Klaus, really and truly proud. He was on a good track, and he and Diego were even looking for jobs together- Diego in law enforcement, Klaus picking up something simple in customer service to try and save for a better place for him and his brother. Five sympathized with that, given that he was living with Vanya and also struggling- a  _lot-_ to figure out work. Diego was looking into forging him documents of some kind of medical condition to explain him being physically 14.   
  But they got on well, and so did Klaus and Diego, and wasn't that really all that mattered? His siblings looked happy, for once in their broken, fragile, lived-over lives. Or at least as close to it as they could, for 5 grown adults who had never really known what genuine peace and happiness felt like.   
  "This is it, isn't it?" Klaus said suddenly, breaking Five's reminiscing and almost startling him. "What is?"  
  "This is what family is supposed to be." Klaus's face breaks into a nearly breathtaking grin, because the man is just plain striking when he's healthy and smiling like that, and the sparkle in his eyes is adoration this time. "We really made it."  
  Five feels a tightness in his chest, that his brain screams at him to beat down. But he finds there's not much of a need, really. He smiles back, not sarcastically, not shit-eating, not smug, but soft, and genuine, and he blinks away the heat in his eyes when the warmth of his brother's words settles around him. "Yeah," he replies softly, finally. "Yeah, we really did."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be funny.  
> Short, funny, dumb.  
> O o p s.  
> You're welcome to comment prompts! I think I'm gonna edit the main description to be more general as it mostly described the first chapter lmao  
> If you just read this for the first time now, welcome to the future kids


	3. Extra Extraordinary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus just wanted to catch a break from Diego's post work irritability for a few hours, and what he got was... significantly more troubling.  
> And he was facing it with no sign of Five returning any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's pretty heavy drug-related content ahead, not in the way you'd expect. Please use discretion, dearies, I love you <3

     Five giving anyone a key to his place was truly and utterly laughable.  
  Five giving KLAUS a key to his place was an idea that would earn a throat punch, if you happened to be within his regrettably limited throat punching range.

  That's why Klaus had come to really like Vanya, because she was really happy to see him and Five getting along and actually  _doing things,_ and the thriving mom-sister that she'd become was all too eager to make a shiny new key to her apartment so Klaus could get in when Five wanted to be a snarky hermit and Vanya wasn't home to force him to socialize.  
  But the energy in their now-shared apartment was entirely... wrong. Klaus feels uneasy as his swooping entrance slows to a standstill; not as if there was any danger, necessarily, but not entirely calm enough to assume there wasn't. But the culprit was staring him directly in the face, which is both reassuring and much, much worse.  
  Vanya is sitting stoically at the kitchen table in her tiny apartment, staring up at Klaus as if looking through him. Her face is ever so faintly flushed, and her pupils blown wide, and if the medium weren't painfully aware of the deadweight of her emotions in the air, coursing through his veins with burning familiarity as her energy manipulation entwined with his energy sensitivity, he'd be ashamed to admit he'd read enough plotless fiction to know exactly where her appearance was leading.   
  But this is decidedly worse. Too familiar. Painful. He almost immediately felt feverish and nauseous, and everything in him screamed at him to get the hell out of there. It didn't help that the tv was on, turned up high, and only playing static, a loud and constant sound that was no doubt intensifying his sister's abilities. He makes quick work of shutting that off, and unplugging it for added measures. Vanya's lack of questioning makes him wonder if she even notices him.  
  She doesn't.  
  In truth, inebriation was... an interesting experience for her. Being home with Five was easy, even without the light chatter they kept up fairly often. The old soul was easy to find a rhythm with, trustworthy, steady. Really, inviting him to share her place brought the single greatest level of stability the violinist had ever had. Usually if Five had to leave, she was just fine. For whatever reason, this time was different. 

  Klaus takes a fair amount of time getting Vanya to ease into conscious awareness, and that's flickering at best, but he takes it in stride. Pushing his own aches aside at the rolling waves of her high washing over him, he sets his jaw and joins her at the table, very carefully nudging her shoulder until she blinks. He shudders. Her eyes are almost normal again, but they have retained the faintest pale sheen to them, like the extra eyelid on a reptile, and he always forgets about it until he looks closely at her. The oversized pupils aren't helping matters at all. He's really, really missing Five's guidance- but, he rations, Five would never leave her alone if he knew she got herself into stupors like this, and probably wouldn't handle finding out in the best of ways. And that left matters up to Big Brother Klaus.  
  He's pretty sure she's on the same shit as he used to be, and just the thought makes him ache to find that old dealer. There weren't many in the area, and it wouldn't be hard. That  _bastard._ Accepting rehab coins for drug payments, poisoning a girl as vulnerable as Vanya... Klaus feels a rage he can't remember ever feeling before. Emotional outbursts weren't much his  _thing_ _,_ that was always more Diego and now, of course, Vanya. But he dealt with them significantly moreso now that he was clean. Reginald wasn't exactly known for his wisdom of self-care or emotional management, and the emotions in Klaus's head overwhelm him quickly. There's pain coming off of Vanya as well, and fear, and he has no idea why, but that hurts him, too.  
  He isn't aware his hands are shaking until he feels a hand on his arm, and Ben's concerned eyes meet his own from a third chair at the table. Klaus's breath shakes as he lets it out. He hoped to calm down, but that breath ends in a sharp hiss through clenched teeth and him leaping up, nearly knocking over his chair and slamming a fist on the table.   
  Klaus sees Vanya startle in his peripheral, but he's hot, pacing roughly across the small kitchen with his jaw tensed and his eyes like ice. "Fucking  _sadistic prick,_ only cares about getting off on watching vulnerable fuckers kill themselves so the shit in their lives can't do it for them."  
  "Klaus, calm-"  
  "FUCK YOU, man!! Fuck you for what you did to me! Fuck you for letting me destroy myself! Fuck you for giving this shit to my fucking sister! You worthless! Sack! Of!"  
  "KLAUS!"  
  Vanya's voice hits him in the chest like a fist; his own sore and red where he'd been pounding it into the counter. He coughs hoarsely, bracing on the wall, and lets his head hang. He feels winded, and weirdly unsteady. Vanya still looks misty-eyed, and sways a little as she comes back from yelling.   
  That reminds him.  
  "You!" he accuses, snapping upright with a finger in her face. "You know the shit I went through! How useless I was, you know how many times I  _died!_ And you went out for this shit? What the  _fuck,_ Vanya?? Who the fuck even are you??" His words stung, he can feel it in her energy shift, and he knows it plenty well himself, but he can't stop. He's hurt, and he's scared, and he's  _fucking livid._ "What in the hell would Five say if he came home to you like this?"  
  "Shut your fucking mouth, Klaus!" She's shaking, even while bracing on the table to stay upright. She sways pretty hard, which is odd to him, but he smells alcohol on her breath, too. She's crossed, and absolutely fucked. The realization cuts him deep. He's pissed, but above that entirely, he feels heartbroken. He was the disappointment, the poisoned waste of space. Him. And he'd come out of it. That place was never meant to be reclaimed by someone else, least of all Vanya, who was finally becoming one of them like she should have been all along. God fucking  _dammit,_ dad.  
  "No, Vanya! Look at yourself! You look like  _me,_ Vanya! You look like Klaus motherfucking Hargreeves. Do you feel good about that?? Do you want that??"  
  Her eyes flash. "Klaus, stop it. I could.. I could kill you. Don't..." Her voice brakes. Her eyes stay white, and where he should have shied away, Allison's bloodied throat crossing his mind, he feels himself grow cold, solid, steady. A rock where he stood. He relaxes his jaw and clasps his hands at his waist. "Yeah, well, heroin tried, too, and that bitch succeeded. I'm not someone to warn about self-preservation." A chuckle, a dry and cold sound, leaves his lips as he sees Vanya's breath catch. An idea strikes him. It's a sickening and painful thought, and he misses, for a fleeting moment, the numbness he wore over his wit in the old days, when he could pull these kinds of tricks and turn situations around without feeling the guilt of breaking someone down. But even though he'd gained the empathy, he'd never found a better way to catch someone and make them take him seriously. "You want to make it all go away? You want sunshine and quiet all the time?" Number Four pauses, then smiles, a warm and inviting expression that perfectly masks his hurt. He knows exactly what he's planning to do, and the thought almost makes him nauseous. "It is easier, isn't it?"  
  The lanky man crosses the kitchen, rifling through a couple cabinets. He knows Five had a stash, if he could only...  
  "Klaus..."  
  Ah, the bottom cupboards. Logic, Klaus, Five's tiny. Slender fingers curl around an elegant bottle of whiskey, and he spins on a heel as he admires it. "Quality stuff," he comments idly. "You buy this for him, or were you blessed with such high standards yourself?" The white in her eyes flickers, and she sways on her feet as she tries to move toward him. Ben, on the other side of the room, has the hardest glare on his face Klaus has ever seen, and the living brother averts his gaze in apology before setting his jaw and opening the bottle.   
  "To Reginald Hargreeve's A+ parenting and a good, long life post-apocalypse, huh, sis?" He hears Ben and Vanya's collective yell of his name as he tipps the bottle back and feels fire down his throat. He had hoped to gag, to feel sick, but all he gives is a tremble of regret as his body welcomes the burn like it's water in the desert, and he immediately craves the feeling of stumbling against walls with a shit-eating grin, living in a perfect world if only for a few hours. 

  He sees the white flash seconds before the bottle explodes in his hand. He knows he cries out at the glass in his skin, but things are a blur. He reaches out in a panic and swings.  
  His open palm cuffs over Vanya's ear; not terribly hard, but by her yelp and the sudden, immediate lift of weight on Klaus's chest and clearing of his mind, the impact is enough to cut off her hearing.   
  She stumbles, but before she can fall, she stills. Only for a moment. In seconds Klaus watches his sister tense, eyes squeezed closed, mouth open in a silent scream racked with sobs. Number Four freezes, entirely lost.  
  Ben had caught her, had wrapped her in his arms and is hugging her, just holding her close. He rubs circles on her back, keeping her held tight even as she struggles. Klaus can see him measuring his breathing, trying to calm her down, but her panic attack is stubborn as all hell.  
  "Klaus! Klaus, please, I'm sorry! I didn't mean-- I'll stop! Please don't, please! Don't put me back! Please, God, please, I can't breathe, Klaus--!"   
  She sounds hysterical. Nervous, Klaus springs forward, Ben quickly stepping away and removing his hands when Klaus lays his own on his sister's shoulder. He squeezes gently. He's nervous and apprehensive, and has no idea what to do or why she's panicking. Paranoia from the drugs? But that shouldn't set in so rapidly...  
  She finally meets his gaze, her eyes pleading and utterly haunted. He's paralyzed, entirely at a loss, and then something clicks. He'd only seen her like this...  
  Shit. This has to have something to do with the vault. Fuck, was that how Luther got her in there?? He knows Reginald would never offer something as familial as a hug to one of the kids, but Luther might, if it was the only way to do it. God, what the fuck.  
  "Vanya, Vanya! Focus! Listen to me, Vanya, just me. You're safe." She stares up at him, determination straining under her panic, as he very softly rubs her shoulders. No more white in her eyes, and heavy sobs rack her body, but she's starting to breathe and ever so faintly nod along with his reassurances, making her older brother smile. "It's just me, Van. Ben caught you when you stumbled. No one's ever locking you up."   
  The promise becomes stone, heavy and jagged-edged and settled deep in his heart as soon as he says it. Vanya would NEVER be made into a caged animal again. He would die ensuring it.  
   Vanya turns, quizical and disbelieving. Right, she was the White Violin when all the others saw Klaus fully conjure The Horrow in the Icarus Theater. She's not exactly been all that keen to ask about that night, and no one has made her hear about it since. Her scanning stops, following the direction of her brother's gaze, and her eyes fly open wide as she ducks around Klaus and nearly dives for Number Six. "Holy shit, you... Ben.. _Ben!!"_ She pulls her brother as tight to her as she could. Her hands grasp his jacket as if it were a lifeline, her face buried against his hood, her entire body shaking violently as she takes every heartbeat she could to hold her late brother until the medium is too tired to keep him corporeal. Klaus sees tears in both of their eyes, and he hates himself for opening that bottle and reigniting his cravings. Hates ever touching it to begin with, and all the time he wasted on it when he could have given himself, and her, and everyone else moments like this all this time.  
   Thankfully, the whiskey in his open cuts burns like hell, and he can focus on that instead while he works on helping Vanya sober up.

-

     A lot of water and some pizza, and one unfortunate incident of puking into the toilet later, and Vanya reports she's feeling a bit better. Thankfully, she hadn't reached a point of finding valuables to shell out for good drugs, and coke is a shit high no matter how you slice it. She isn't feeling good by any means, but she's significantly less intoxicated.  
  "Why, Vanya?" Klaus asks softly after a while. He'd gotten tired, so it's just the two of them now without his energy being high enough to keep Ben around. Vanya had snapped to awareness fast for the time it took her to tell Ben she loved him, and for Ben to tell her he knew, and loved her too, before she helped Klaus clean up and order pizza. "You saw what it took from me, what I became."  
  "Yeah, I did," she murmurs, her head on his shoulder in probably the most intimate gesture either of them had had since before the apocalypse. "I saw a man who was always carefree, always himself. Someone who could get his power to just... stop." He can't stop the sharp laughter that invokes.  
  "Sorry, V. I guess I really don't ever talk to anyone about shit, do I?" Letting out a heavy sigh, he sinks down in the couch a bit. "Y'know, Luther said the same thing. That's kind of funny, really. But I'm nothing to... aspire after, you know? I was a broken, emotionally stunted person just trying to shut ghosts the hell up instead of trying to figure out how my own mind worked. I lost so much time, to see Ben, to see Dave, fuck, even to talk to Dad.. to be... useful. To someone, to anyone." Ben's sitting in the little chair across from the couch, and he offers a reassuring smile when Klaus meets eyes with him, but going back over all those years still feels like shit.   
  Vanya nods slowly against his shoulder. "Yeah, I get what you mean." She sighs, and the sound is like three decades of pent up stress straining at the bounds of her consciousness. Klaus is sure she held a lot on her shoulders now, in retrospect. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

  And Vanya talks. She tells him everything, every feeling of utter uselessness and hurt, every day that she would try to be included only to balk at hearing her name in whispered tones from a sibling. She tells him how she had felt so numb her entire life on those pills, how Dad always told her she had such bad nerves as a kid that he put her on them to keep her safe, about how she'd been locked away for years. Klaus is very careful to not mention that he hadn't really noticed her being gone, but she makes note of how that wouldn't surprise her anyways. She talks about finally feeling like she belonged somewhere, and feeling alive for the first time in her life after quitting her meds, and the terror that filled her any time she felt like she was alone, or when she thought Allison was dead and found out Harold had tricked her.   
  Klaus hadn't known the extent of Harold's lies to his sister, and he's quite glad she had killed him, or he'd be out the door now to do it himself. "I'm sorry," he says softly, interjecting into her story.  
  "Hm?"  
  "I'm sorry." He speaks up now, determined. "I threw out that journal to go pawn Dad's old box. If I hadn't, or at least hadn't been so stupid about throwing things in a dumpster, he wouldn't have ever known-"  
  "No, Klaus, stop. It's.. I'm over all that. I needed to know what I was capable of. I needed to learn to control it, and you needed to reach your potential. Everything we did, good and bad, it needed to happen for us to be here right now."   
  She smiles up at him, and God, if there was any pure good in this family he was almost certain it was in Vanya.  
  "I just... don't want to ever be  _her_ again. I'm sick of being terrified of myself, of what I can do. I'm sick of my entire life either being alone and numb like Dad wanted, or putting everyone in danger by being around them. Five left, didn't really say what for or how long until he was back, and I just... I couldn't take it. I was pulling my hair out, I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't live like that. But I was so fucking tired of those goddamn pills, I just went out and got whatever I could to make everything shut the fuck up and go the hell away." The sound she makes is somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff. "Almost worked, too. Isn't that a bitch?"  
Klaus hangs his head slightly, working his lip between his teeth. Hearing Vanya, hearing her voice echoing him almost perfectly, scares him, but more than anything it utterly shatters everything he has. But Vanya pushes a smile before he can say anything in return, and in a voice gentle enough to give whiplash after her last sentiment, she slips into her next subject.  
  "Have you seen him? You mentioned him earlier, but I don't.. I don't really know about him."  
  Dave. Klaus smiles sadly, that familiar ache returning to his chest at the mention of his name. "No," he replies softly. "No, I haven't.. haven't really tried."  
  Vanya sits up sharply. "What?? Why??"  
  "It doesn't feel fair. When I told Diego I lost someone, he told me I was lucky I could see him whenever I wanted. But I couldn't, because I was so damn high, and the next morning I flushed my pills and tried to refuse to take any more. When I still couldn't see him, I... I tried to find the last bit of drugs I had and just fade into the apocalypse, and Ben slapped me. Physically slapped the pills from my mouth." He chuckles fondly, eyes bright, and for a second as Vanya follows his gaze, she can swear she sees Ben's smiling face in her armchair before he vanishes again.   
  "I thought I saw him at a club where we were trying to find Luther, but I think it was something else... PTSD, war flashbacks, you know. I heard gunfire. I was crawling around for a pill, and I found him, but he was dead. Not a ghost, not a smiling face I could hold or kiss or..." He cuts off then, tears in his eyes and a catch in his throat. He chokes back a sob, takes a breath. "He was never there. And... I don't know. I don't think it's fair to try again. Ben hanging around, sure. He's always wanted to be with us. Talking to a victim begging for my help, fine, they need me. But Dave? God, Vanya... he's gone so long. So many years. I lost him 51 years ago, and I've been too high, too useless ever since. He should have moved on."   
  Vanya clearly wants to stop him, make him take back what he said about himself, but she bites her tongue. Klaus opening up really didn't happen- hell,  _anyone,_ opening up to her was a feat in itself, let alone Number Four. But she can't stand the flush on his face and the way his eyes glisten with pain.   
  "Okay, so how do you start it?"  
  "Ex-squeeze me?" Masking hurt with humor, as always.  
  "Your seances, Seance, how do you do it?"  
  He balks. "Well I don't really.. they kind of just show up..."  
  Seven huffs. This isn't the reply she wanted, and doesn't help either of them whatsoever. "Then we're trying something, and you and I are both going to pray that it works." Hands outstretched, she turns to sit crosslegged facing him, determined and almost challenging.   
  Klaus, not one to question safety or sanity, takes her hands.

  Holding hands with the White Violin when her powers start working is like hovering your palms over a live wire. Klaus feels uneasy. It isn't necessarily bad, but very unsettling, as strength and power roll through him like waves. But it becomes gentle after a moment, as Vanya's breathing grows slower, albeit very deliberate.  
  She asks him to hum. "Hum what?"  
  "A song, preferably. One that makes you think of him, if you can."  
  She misses his sharp intake of breath in her concentration, the chill that races down his spine. He can't do this, not now, not here. Not with whiskey on his breath and a sister he'd failed once again, guiding him in his own powers when she barely understood the surface of her own.   
  "Van, I-"  
   _"Hum,_ Klaus. Stop panicking."  
  Her words send a calm through him. He searches his brain briefly, but the song he wants is at the forefront immediately. Specifically, the verse he had sang many a high night before, almost to punish himself for his stupid weakness, and the one Dave had sang him so many times. His favorite song, one he played on piano for his little sister, one he had sang for them to dance to the last night they got away before he gave his beautiful heart to the war. The memory was a butterfly knife made of solid ice, and Klaus aches worse than any withdrawal as he acquieses to his sister.

 _"We overcome the sirens_  
_We look both left and right_  
_And I can feel the numbness accompany my plight_  
_And I know that someday soon I'll see you_  
_But now you're out of sight_  
_And you'll kiss me like you used to in the January night"_

 _What did you tell me Mary_  
When you were there so sweet and very  
Full of field and stars  
You carried all of time  
Oh and, heavens, when you looked at me  
Your eyes were like machinery  
Your hands were making artifacts in the corner of my mind

 He's singing, not humming, feeling tears spill over almost immediately. Vanya is focusing on his voice for her power, and the intensity of his love reflected back at him is exhilerating. He sings through gasping sobs, though he's grinning ear to ear, visions of Dave dancing with him on moonlit walks around the camp or laughing silently between themselves in their cots flooding his mind. All their moments, always stolen somewhere in the night, always lit by the moon and hidden from view. Beautiful, perfect moments, with a beautiful, perfect partner, gone too damn soon from a wretched world that he had made just the slightest bit brighter. Vanya, or perhaps Ben, puts their hands on Klaus's shoulders, offering support.  
  He never feels or hears Dave, as was customary for a new "guest", and he can't bear to open his eyes and lose the memories playing through his mind like a film reel when he sees the room empty. It almost feels like this is enough; like even if Vanya's power can't influence his own enough to conjure Dave from so many timelines ago, it could still give him this moment of love, and remind him of the beauty of the one he lost.   
  The hands on his shoulders skim upwards, cupping his jaw, and at first he barely notices in his visions, but then the weight of someone pressing close to him catches his attention, and suddenly lips are on his and he's frozen.  
  Not much of his mind is broken free from the stupor of adoration and enthrall he was in, and him returning the kiss is an absent, natural response. It's soft, and loving, and familiar, and something he never wants to escape from, especially not now, when the pain of missing Dave was so sharp and all he wants is a touch, to be held and to be loved like he was in the war. Klaus's arms find shoulders to wrap around, as he's hoisted into a lap, and the world is melting away without a care.   
  He can smell aftershave, ever so faintly, and with a note of surprise his fingers find short hair. Ben..?   
  Unexpected, sure, but is it really so out of character? There had always been the slightest edge to his tone when he used Dave's name to convince Klaus to get clean, like he resented that Dave was the only reason Klaus would do so. The medium assumed it was just Ben wanting him to want to be better on his own. Maybe he was wrong; maybe Ben had been jealous, and this moment of pure loss was too much for him to just stand by for. Maybe he just wanted Klaus to move forward, and say goodbye.  
  But could he..?  
  Ben breaks the kiss, pulling Klaus against his chest, and the comfort of being held is admittedly desperately needed. Klaus nuzzles into the softness of his shirt. Ben feels like home, like safety, in a way Klaus never would have expected, and if he wasn't so vulnerable and ever so faintly trembling with emotion, he was quite sure he'd find a heavy discomfort in how content he feels.  
  When Vanya speks up, he almost can't hear her voice, muffled through the rougher cotton of Ben's jacket and strangely choked up.  
  "I knew he could do this."  
  Always the supportive sister. Unsurprising, Klaus thinks. She may not even be able to see Ben, he isn't sure. If she could only see Klaus, he was certain she assumed it was Dave. He feels Ben run fingers through his hair and he sighs against Number Six's chest.  
  The voice in his ear moments later, however, isn't foreign, but it also is very decidedly  _not Ben's._  
  "So did I. It's been a long time waiting. I'm so proud of you, my beloved. I've missed you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna mention here that I've never had more than alcohol and a very small amount of weed but I've hung out with folks on acid and meth and I'm doing my best. I have NO idea where this chapter will lead just yet. I'll add my thoughts below after? ::shrug::  
> Edit: HECC I didn't plan for that ending. It's okay if there's tears, I'm also crying while writing it.  
> Please, I feel like I speed things along too quickly. Should I try to be more descriptive maybe?? Use more dialogue?? Please let me know!!

**Author's Note:**

> HAHAHA well shit that got way more emotional than I intended (and if you couldn't tell, I had the soundtrack playing, and Mary came on at the end of the Delores story and through the ending, so y'know. Crying hours are upon us, hoes.  
> Might continue? Let me know?  
> This is for my friend's prompt of Klaus buying Five new clothes! Hope you love it, Five! <3


End file.
